Christmas In Paris
by problematick
Summary: Harm and Mac get dragged to France on CIA pretense only to have the mission go bust in a day. Now they must elude ruthless terrorists that take no prisoners, navigate a foreign country and traverse the battlefield which is their love life. [COMPLETE]
1. Here We Go Again

AN: Hiya! It's me, Blue-Shade on yet ANOTHER friggin' name. Look, I'm starting from my original story, I have PROOF if that's what it takes. All I want to do is write and let yall enjoy my story. Ok, here we go --again.

Spoilers: AJ/Tiner still there, Mattie/Jen not arrived yet, Paraguay & Mac/Webb NEVER HAPPENED! Um...I think that's it. Right after episode Capitol Crime where Mac confesses to Sturgis. Ahem.

Disclaimer: Do you think that if I owned JAG that Webb would still be alive today?! DIDN'T THINK SO! I mean he has his uses but COME ON PEOPLE! (memajor webb basher in case you couldn't tell.)

Chapter 1: Here We Go...Again

2145 Local  
Somewhere in France

"Remind me again why we're here."

"Yes, enlighten us. We're only JAG lawyers."

"Perhaps, but you both have the type of background training we'll need. You can fly an F-14 Tomcat, and you...well..."

"Well, what?!" She raises an eyebrow and stares at him.

"Attractive women are perfect distractions. It's just a helpful bonus that you can fire a gun without flinching." He seems a little exasperated.

"Hm." She crosses her arms and glares at him.

Harm waves a hand in the air as if to clear the air.

"We know all of that. But you still didn't really answer my question. You dragged us up here all the way to the French Alps for what, exactly?

"The Admiral is already disgruntled as it is. If you don't come up with a good excuse and call your C.O. ASAP with a good excuse and have him explain, it's gonna be your six on the line when all hell breaks loose, understand?"

"Yeah, whatever." He's nonchalant about the whole thing. "Hey, go put on these disguises." He throws each of them a bag.

"Oof..." They share a sideways look, rising from their seats.

"Oh, and FYI, there's one bathroom and thirty seconds to change. I suggest you get in there and hurry up. Ooh, don't forget the make-up kit. Heh..." Smirking, he turns and moves to the front of the van.

"Ugh, that slimeball." She shakes her head and sighs, glaring at the back of his head. "Come on, change clothes and I'll do your make-up."

They can barely move without touching each other after entering and closing the door.

"Jeez, could this room be any smaller?" His elbow hits her shoulder.

"Well, if you weren't six feet tall..." She accidentally kicks him in the shin.

"Oh like I can help that!" They both hit the walls with loud thumps as the van sways.

"Hand me that shirt, would you?"

"Here, hook this stupid thing up then, I can't get it."

"Smooth fumble-fingers." She smiles, but it fades slowly as she narrows her eyes slightly, pausing. She runs her fingers over his bare chest slowly, fingertips brushing lightly. "Wow...have you been working out?" She has her eyes on his chest, her hands lingering.

"Uh..." Harm pauses, looking down and watching her. "Yeah, a little. Does it show?"

"Not really..." she seems a little entranced. Harm sighs and raises a brow. Mac recovers, stammering after looking up at him. She glances up and then down again. "B-but I-I can feel it! You know, here..." She touches his abs with two fingers.

There is a silence as she looks up again and a gentle smile comes to Harm's lips. The van hits a huge rut and bounces like crazy, ruining the moment. With a simultaneous crash-bang-thud, the toilet seat snaps closed and Harm and Mac are tangled together. Harm has fallen backwards to lay on the toilet seat, his unzipped dress pants dropping slightly to reveal plaid boxers. Mac had tumbled over and ends up lying on top of him. The skirt she's wearing has been hitched up as her legs are spread, one on either side of him. A bra strap has slipped over her shoulder and her hair is in her face. Both half-dressed, their chests are pressed together. Harm sits up slowly, bringing Mac with him as they both breathe hard. He has a hand on her thigh, sliding upward under the fabric of the skirt, the other hand having fallen to the small of her back. She tucks a lock of her short brown hair behind her ear before returning the hand to his shoulder, the other's fingers gently rubbing the base of his neck. They are both looking down, cheek to cheek. She pulls back, but not away. Just enough so that their noses touched. Her eyes fluttered open to look at Harm.

"What the hell was that?" She could barely manage a low voiced-whisper.

"Felt like a crater. Pothole, I guess. You ok?" He opened his eyes and looked into hers, his lips still parted as his breathing slowed. Harm lifts his hand off her leg and flicks away a stubborn strand of her hair, resting his hand on the curve of her cheek. All she could do was nod, it seemed as if she was unable to breathe, just holding on to Harm. She licked her lips and left them apart as her breathing became heavy once more. Harm tilted his head to the side and his eyelids slid almost closed, Mac doing the same and leaning in.

"Are you two done yet? Your thirty seconds are up— " Webb opens the door without knocking, in the instant before they kiss. They both turn their heads towards the door, throwing daggers at him. Webb closes the door.

"Uh...you can have another minute..."

Harm growls and Mac clears her throat, and rises slightly, getting off of him. She couldn't help but blush lightly before reluctantly leaving his lap. Turning to the sink, she began to apply her make up.

"Yes, you look beautiful." Harm said, needing no question from her. He fixed her bra strap but not after running his fingers up her arm slow enough to give her goosebumps before sliding it back on her shoulder. She took in a breath quickly and softly, but Harm grinned as he heard it.

"Ah..thanks." She smiles and adds his moustache on his upper lip. "Now hurry up and put your clothes on before I jump on you again." She finished buttoning her shirt and brushing her hair.

"Wait..." He narrowed his eyes. "Jump...on? Ah..." He smiles, and nods his head knowingly. She grinned back and reached over him as he sat on the closed toilet seat pulling on his socks grabbing the new boots and bag, stuffing her original clothes inside.

"Hurry up slowpoke, I'm outta here." She exited before he could say anything more. Harm was left putting on a white tank to go under his dress shirt and suit jacket, smiling and shaking his head. Finished, he left the bathroom and bumped her arm playfully and acted blameless as he sat down next to her.

"Are you two lovebirds finished? God, I hope you aren't going to be like this the whole trip." Webb sighs. "Ok. Remember your identities, you've got your passports. Just speak no English and as little French as possible. I don't want anyone remembering an American accent."

_"Qu'est-ce que le accent?" _Mac asks, in fluid and _trés rapidement francais._ Smiling sweetly, she feigns innocence.

"Alright, you're an exception, sheesh." Webb throws up his hands just as they enter the city. "We're taking a three-day private train to the highest ski resort on the mountain. Luckily, it's closed for repairs, but the cabins are intact.

The driver leans back.

_"Ou voulez-vous aller?"_

Harm leans forward unexpectedly.

_"Nous sommes aller a la gare, s'il vous plait?" _He shrugs. "It's a little broken, but understandable." Harm offers a sheepish smile. Mac is just astounded.

"Well I'm impressed Rabb. You're not just a blob of legal jargon and muscle. There's **actually** a brain in there somewhere!" Smirking, he opens the door as the van comes to a stop.

_"Nous sommes voici. Allons maintenant!" _

They grabbed their bags and followed Webb's helper through a back entrance and "Employees-Only" areas, only to jump two tracks and climb on the back of a short five-car locomotive. There was a car for the crew, dining, passengers, and the caboose for luggage. The second to last car was filled, but in unmarked wooden crates and boxes. Webb wouldn't talk until they were well away from the station, and he was a man of few words even then.

"It's need to know, and if you do, I'll tell you. Right now, just go get settled in. You'll be sharing a room. It's late, so you should probably just stay there until tomorrow. Breakfast is at 9:00 AM." Without another word he retreats to his room.

Mac sighs.

"He was of no help at all, as usual. Let's go divvy up the room."

"Divvy up?" Harm follows her, dropping their bags inside the door and flopping on his back onto the bed, his feet hanging off the double mattress. After looking around the room, Mac sits on the edge of the bed. Reaching over, Harm pulls her backwards, and she ends up resting her head in his lap. Turning over on her side, she looks at him.

"Why are we always his little gophers?"

"Maybe we're better than his backstabbing friends." Harm chuckles. But the humor dwindles. "I don't know what we've gotten ourselves into this time, but let's be careful. I can't let anything happen to you.

Mac reaches out a hand and grasps his in her own, looking into his eyes.

"Ditto."


	2. Day Two

AN: Hiya! Yeah, I know I published the first chapter earlier today, for the none of you that have read this yet, but I got bored and well, I felt like writing today, so second chapter is up now. Here ya go.

Spoiler/Disclaimer: Same as in chapter one. Nothing really changes...

Chapter 2: Day Two

0834 Local  
Moving Train in the French Alps

Mac started to wake, feeling chilled and missing the body next to her. Half asleep, she felt a warm, but empty place in the bed beside her. Her eyebrows furrowed as she blinked and squinted sleepily, propping herself up on one elbow. Sighing, she swung her feet off the bed and stood, running a hand through her hair before crossing the small room to their private bathroom. Just as she reached for the knob the door opens and Harm stands in the doorway, followed by a cloud of steam. He holds a rather small towel casually in front of him, naked otherwise. His head rises and his eyes open while he rubs his wet hair with his other hand and for a moment they make eye contact. Mac's eyes widen and she stands, speechless, in big baggy pajama pants and a loose shirt that is left unbuttoned at the top and bottom. Harm's eyes reach the size of dinner plates and his cheeks flame red in an instant – of course, he would blame it on the hot shower.

"Mac!"

She finally unfroze and jumped back as he tightened his grip on the almost useless towel that had been rapidly wrapped around his waist. He closed the door halfway and leaned around it, not much more comfortable with the situation. Mentally, he remembered the time he'd fantasized about her stepping out of his shower clad only in a towel.

"Sorry!" She replied. "I didn't think you'd be in there..." '_Well where else **would** he be Mackenzie?!'_ a little voice in her head piped up. "I was still asleep...I didn't see anything!" The understatement of the year. She saw everything and **talk** about an ego boost! She leaned against the wall next to the door, taking in a few deep breaths. He emerged a minute later, clad in boxers. Mac was about to speak when Harm yanked her close and kissed her, silencing her. A moment later an attendant slid the door open to their compartment. Without turning around, Harm pulled back from a dazed Mac and gruffly censured the man.

"Can't people get any privacy around here?!"

"Sorry sir, just letting you know, breakfast is in fifteen minutes."

"Actually, seventeen minutes and forty seconds, to be exact." Mac said, smiling at Harm's amazement.

"Of course, ma'am, you're right. My mistake. Mr. Renning expects you there." He closed the door and walked off after a moment. Harm let Mac out of his tight embrace and stepped into the bathroom, applying his moustache and putting on his glasses before returning to her.

"Well? How do I look?"

"Very intelligent. But I just hate how you hide those blue eyes..." She caught herself before she began to get lost in the depths of his beautiful sea colored orbs. She turned, going to apply her make up and add her green contacts. He pulled on a sweater over a light green T-shirt and some nice khaki slacks. Mac exited the bathroom in a knee length blue skirt, a sharp white jacket over a gray pinstripe shirt. Slipping into a pair of matching gray heels, she exited on the arm of her 'husband' and they joined Webb, now 'Mr. Renning', at their designated table in the dining car.

"I see you two are on time. I take it you slept well?" Hinting at something he shouldn't, leaning forward with a smug smile on his face.

"Yes, Laura and I slept fine." Harm remembered her alias like his life depended on it because, well, it really did. Mac leaned on his arm, their chairs pushed close together, smiling up adoringly at Harm, playing her part.

"Mm, yes, very well." Smiling, she turned to the plate just set in front of her. "Wow, you spared no expense on this trip, eh Renning?" She plucked her napkin up from the table, shook it out, and laid it across her lap in one swift and fluid motion. Harm's mouth twitched in a smile and he placed his own napkin in his lap, starting into the steaming food.

"I don't need you two fainting of hunger...or lack of sleep." He chuckled. "Eat up." They proceeded to do just that, making small talk to keep the pretense of friends in case one of his team wasn't all they were made up to be. Even the CIA had leaks, and they took no chances.

Once breakfast had finished, Harm and Mac returned to their room quickly, locking the door this time. Mac rummaged around in her bag for a minute or two, Harm trying to enjoy the view without getting caught, unsuccessfully.

"I saw that!" She said, straightening, a paperback novel in hand.

"What?" Harm played innocent, still taking a step back from the could-be-dangerous Marine.

"Starin' at my six. Don't think you're off the hook." Her eyes darted around, looking for a weapon, but none were to be found.

"I did no such thing." He still edged away from her, putting the bed between them.

"Yeah, sure." She looked out the window, and narrowed her eyes, crossing the room in a few quick steps.

"What is it, Mac?" Harm asked, coming to her side and gazing out at the white blanket covering the mountain.

"It's only been a day and a half...and Webb said it was a three day trip."

"What?" Harm was still in the dark.

"We're slowing down."


	3. Between a Rock and a Hard Place

AN: Hiya! Thanks for all the feedback. It's nice to know yall like this story. Sorry it took me like a month to update with writer's block and all. I couldn't decide which way I wanted the plot to go and I had like 4 different choices! But it's all over, so just to clarify a couple things yall pointed out to me.

Chris: Ok, thanks for noticing my story wasn't too consistent on what language they were speaking. ::thinks:: Well, the people on the train are CIA helpers, so they don't have to speak French...but they are keeping their aliases. I hadn't thought about it all that much, but good job! ::thumbs up::

I'm going to tone down the fluff, you're right they're not dating. They're out of character some, I admit. But to argue, they do have to keep up the façade of newlyweds.

Harley1/Leanne: DOOD! You didn't finish writing your email address on the review you left! Who are you?!?! (P.S. I apologize in advance for any errors since I don't have a beta reader yet. Leanne will be one soon, I hope.)

Lisa/(other person that appreciated cliffie): Yay! Glad you loved it. Here is part three so you can read it. ::notices that no one else really cared about the cliffhanger, so they get a prize:: yay! ::bounceful:: Oh, BTW, if any of yall know Abby –WCD on here, I know her in real life and I act like her now, so if I'm a little hyper, don't worry, it's normal. Ooh, and if ya read any of her stuff, tell her I recommended it! wOOt! (You can find her on a review of this story, I think.)

In the beginning of this chappie I will go in depth on their aliases so yall won't be in the dark anymore, mkay?

Okiday. Whew! That was a lot. Also thanks to (name reviewers) for reviewing too. That takes care of that, so on with the show!

Chapter 3: Between A Rock And A Hard Place

* * *

???? Local 

French Alps

Mac's brown eyes darted around, looking at the white landscape of the mountain.

"We're slowing down." Harm's brows furrowed as he looked outside as well, and sure enough, the trees were passing by slower. Gradually, mind you, but all the same they would eventually come to a stop.

"Something's happening. I think it's time to tell Webb we 'need-to-know'." Harm put on his glasses and checked that his .9 mm Baretta was tucked neatly into his pants at the small of his back before he left the room, Mac hot on his heels.

"WEBB!" Mac yelled, opening the door to his compartment with a bang. He jumped up from the chair he was sitting in and yanked the both of them into his room. Poking his head outside, he looked around for anyone that might've heard. Whirling on Mac, he advanced menacingly.

"What the HELL do you think you're doing, Colonel? You could've bused our covers wide open!" Before Mac responded with a left hook, Harm put a hand firmly on Webb's chest and arrested his movement, partly stepping between them.

"Hey, I think we deserve to know what's going on, and why the train's slowing down."

"What?!" Webb exclaimed, running to the window and looking outside with a minute bit of panic in his eyes which quickly was replaced with calm.

"Damn, they found us. I knew there was a leak in this team. Things were going too roughly for there not to be." He hit the glass with a fist and then just stared out the window, silent. Finally Mac rolled her eyes and grabbed the CIA agent by the collar and shoved him up against the window he had been wistfully looking out of a moment earlier. Her standard issue had found a place in her hand as she leaned into his face with fierce eyes and a scary tone.

"What the HELL is going on here Webb, and don't give me any of that 'need-to-know' crap because I am NOT in the mood." She accentuated her words with a few extra shoves. Harm took a step closer, hoping not to have to stop Mac from beating the pee out of Webb because, hell, he really wouldn't mind. But they needed hip to get out of this, and fortunately, Mac backed off and stepped behind Harm. She glared at the manipulative jerk that'd sucked two top JAG lawyers into another stupid scheme.

"Alright, since the mission's been partly compromised I'll tell you some—" his eyes widened when two handguns cocked in unison, "—ok ALL of what I know. But I'm not promising that it's gonna be a nice story." He received cold stares from blue and brown eyes, so he broke the silence with his own voice. "You know your aliases—" he was cut off as the man and woman automatically said the facts of their covers.

"Tom and Leslie (??) Longfellow, ages 39 and 35. Both fluent in French and English, married 3 months ago, October 15th. Tom is a former small plane technician and pilot, now firearms expert and dealer. Leslie is a skilled kick-boxer, currently a physical trainer and having majored in business, running her own out of the home." The two started to rattle off some more data but the field agent held up a hand.

"I KNOW you know. I wasn't asking for your stories. I was going to say, however, that the two agents before you turned up dead, shot execution style and a not attached saying: 'whoever you are, stay the hell out of our business', or something along those lines." Before he could continue, Webb had to jump back as an enraged Marine Colonel tried to get at him, Harm attempting to gently restrain her.

"You bastard! You mean we could be killed?!"

"You knew this mission was dangerous when you started!" He retorted, anger boiling over inside him too, but as soon as that 6'3" (making up Harm's height but he IS over 6ft tall I heard) figure turned oh him, he was silent.

"I heard you requested us, Webb. I thought we were...well, we never were actual friends, but we had an understanding. I'd hoped you wouldn't ask for anymore favors, but the Admiral's hands were tied – by your boss Kershaw, right? So you purposefully roped us into this knowing full well that we were probably gonna end up missing or worse. But it doesn't matter to you does it Webb? All you care about is yourself. So you know what? Shove all your 'need-to-know' information. I'm getting off this train and going home right now." Harm turned to leave after he'd finished his threatening tirade. Mac followed after, still a little frustrated but knowing now was not the time to start something and pursuing Harm was the smartest thing. The pale faced man called out almost tauntingly when they reached the door.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

"Oh yeah?" Mac snarled, whipping around to face the smirking man. "What would you do in my place? I doubt even you would trust yourself in my shoes, Webb." She spat the words at him, and both surprised and angered when he smiled smugly in her face.

"I probably wouldn't. But then again, I don't trust anyone I'm not forced to, and I'm not in your shoes, now am I? Nevertheless, I would listen to what I've got to say if you want to get off this mountain." Harm clenched a fist tightly and his knuckles turned white from the pressure until he released, and looked over his shoulder.

"What do we have to do to get home?"

* * *

AN: ::notices:: Hey, another cliffie...sorry this chappie is kinda short, gonna try to make chapter 4 sometime during the weekend. Unsure as to where this is going right now, heh... ::nervous smile:: Sorry that this chapter is so short...but dont get angry?...review instead! 

Note from friend of author: HIYA!!! ::smilesmile::

Okay, this is a friend of this author known as Abby- WCD (GO READ STORIES!! ::trance::), and I am uploading this document for a friend because her computer is really screwed up. I mean fucked up. I mean AHHH! ::screams - runs away:: So I do this updateness for her. And I hope yall like it because I'm taking MY TIME TO DO THIS!! Fuumthps. (justa joking! &.&)

Okay. I will be offt. But BlueShadow or whatever the heck her name is hoping that yall like this chapter, and that she doesn't know when she is going to get her computer back. But I will update for her. Hurray. ::danceful dance::

Okay, now REVIEW or else die a painful death of....possums. They hurt, you know. ::smilegrin::


	4. Spook Escape Plans

AN: Heya, not much to say in this first note, there's one at the end you should read, and it's kinda long. ::shrug:: Oh well! ::smile:: Here ya go. Oh, BTW, the first line may not correlated directly the same to the end of the last chapter, but it works out better this way so...I changed it. Author's privilege. ::smirk:: Blah to you who don't like it.

Spoiler/Disclaimer: Still the same. ::thinks:: Why would it change? Like I suddenly bought the rights or something... ::thinks about how incredibly awesome that would be::

---x---

"What the hell are you saying, Webb?" Both officers said in unison.

"I'm saying that you better listen to me if you want to get off this mountain and back to the States in one piece. You see, if I had let you go, you probably would've bullied the conductor into stopping, jumped off, and been shot within minutes after 'jumping ship'. Obviously, we are going to stop, and when we do I doubt that any of the people we'll encounter will be overly pleasant. I doubt with all your yelling that you could sense anything, but if you'd shut your loud lawyer mouths for a second you could hear the familiar hum of a..." He trailed off, leaving them to answer. Mac heard the aircraft above them first.

"Helicopter!" She exclaimed, backing away from the window instinctively. The scenery outside told them that the train was only slowing down now, their speed drastically decreased.

"Alright, Webb. We get it. We need your help to get home." When the CIA agent said nothing but smiled smugly, Harm took it upon himself to finally knock some sense into him, literally. He abandoned the handgun and landed a solid blow on Webb's chin, sending him reeling across the room. Harm nearly growled as he cracked the knuckles in that hand, shaking it twice and flexing his fingers for a minute. Mac laid a firm hand on his shoulder as a warning, though not complaining at all about the recent punch. They both kept watch and readied their guns while Clayton recovered.

"Son of a..." Webb began, but silenced by two icy glares. "Ok, never mind. Let's see you get out of these barren mountains on your own!" He pouted like a toddler and threw himself into a chair in the room, surveying the two people who needed his knowledge more than he at the present moment with contempt.

"You know, we don't have to be nice to you, Webb." Mac was lightly rubbing the muzzle of her gun, and Webb started to protest, sitting up.

"This is **nice**?!" Once more he quit speaking and slouched in his chair after being stared at.

"I may not be able to do much now, but rest assured you'll have no rest if I make it out alive with no thanks to you," Harm said, sitting partly on the window sill and crossing his arms, looking outside at the gray sky. Mac sighed, returned her gun to the small of her back and approached Webb.

"I think it's time we agree to disagree and you tell me how to get off this god forsaken rock. Now."

"You know, I think that is the smartest thing either one of you has said since we left the States. Truce." Webb rose and scurried around the room, making small, quick movements; pulling down the window shade, locking the door to his room, flicking on the light, and retrieving small items from hidden places. He spread the collected materials out on a small wooden table under the singular light and pulled a long paper out of a duffle bag procured from under his bed. Upon its unfolding the paper was revealed to be a map of France, and both Mac and Harm's eyes looked swiftly along twisted and highlighted routes, but Webb first pointed out a city near the southeastern coast.

"Ok, this is Nice, where we first landed. We then went by bus into the very southern tip of the Alps and boarded the train we're on now. The 'abandoned' ski resort we were **supposed** to be going to is near the summit of _Mt. Blanc_," he lifted his finger and put it down again a moment later, "here."

"What's this?" Mac asked, running her own finger along the creased map over a highlighted course that eventually led to Paris, like all of the branching and criss-crossing paths. "Or what are these, should I say."

"The many ways to reach our last point, and the help in Paris, should something go wrong. As it so obviously has, you'll be taking the most direct route. According to our current – excuse me – previous speed, we are about...here." His finger moved what seemed like maybe a centimeter, when in reality it was more like a few inches, over the brown shaded part of the map indicating mountainous areas. "Ok, as far as I can tell, we're going to hit a crossroads here that's about a midpoint between our boarding point and the resort – yes, even with the decreased speed. Even a relatively small train like this won't come to a stop for a couple of hours. We're about halfway to the 'hideout', so I suggest you cut straight through, crossing the _Rhone_ River here, and follow the _Massif Central_ until you reach the bend in the _Loire_ River. When you hit the city of _Orleans_, you need to start heading north. There's a canal from there that leads straight to Paris. You can get out of the country with your real passports then." The plan seemed simple enough –well, as simple as it was going to get- and Harm could cover the distance with his fingers in a second. But something about the way Webb talked, as if a little worried or agitated about something bothered Harm, but he remained silent, fearing that he'd haul off and pummel Webb if he spoke any more to the man. Mac was more focused on her escape route for the moment.

"Alright, I suppose we'll be on foot. Do you think we could go here, to _Lyon_, and hop a plane straight back?" Webb shook his head sadly at the suggestion.

"I seriously discourage going over there. It's the hometown and headquarters to the big bad boss of the whole ring we've been trying to bring down. It'd be pretty suspicious if two American NAVY lawyers suddenly shoed up and expected a ride home, even if all your papers and passports were in order. The minute they run your names through a database and a CIA attachment pops up, well. I wouldn't want to be you." He studied the map a bit longer, rubbing his chin with his hand and weighing each option and possible path carefully. "Yes, I think this is best way. Take the map, and the duffel. Take only a small bag each, there should be enough food in the bag to last you two weeks. I'd say that on foot you can make it to the _Rhone_ River in four days, and find a vehicle after that. Even if you've got to get to _Orleans_ without help, the food should last until then. If it's the 17th today, then you should be home by the ..." Webb trailed off, counting in his head.

"23rd, at the latest." Mac had a lightning quick –and accurate- internal calculator, as well as clock. "If we're going to get off this train then we've go to go now." Mac grabbed the map, Harm the sack and together they sped off to their room, leaving Webb in their dust. It was the work of a moment to prepare the things necessary and they ended up being able to stuff everything into the one duffel, wearing layers of clothes just light enough not to hinder their flight. They made their way back to the caboose, navigating the cold and rickety metal bridging between cars quickly and hoping that they'd not been seen. Sitting down in wait across the car from each other, it seemed that the previous kisses hadn't been shared. On some invisible cue, Mac stood up and slid open the door. Despite the continually slowing train, it was still going at quite some speed and the wind lashed at them, snow swirling and hungrily whipping and trying to get inside. They shared their special sidelong glance and squinted against the bitter cold, noses already tinged with pink in that short time.

"Ready?" Harm asked, hesitatingly moving a gloved hand towards hers and brushing it with his fingertips.

"As I'll ever be." Mac's hand brushed back and then slipped in, holding tightly. They grimaced against the snowstorm, against Webb, against everything that took them away from their normal-as-JAG-gets lives and safe, warm homes.

"How much longer 'til we jump?"

"Less than a minute."

---x---

AN: I left another cliffy! Well... ::thinks:: How else are you supposed to end chapters without ending the story? ::wonders...then realizes she doesn't care:: Oh well! Dood...I wrote almost all of this in one sitting. I've had writers block for this story trying to figure out the plot and junk! If you've got any ideas, feel free to e-mail me, just say in the little RE: box that it's about the fanfic, ok? This should be the last of the informational chapters; I just wanted to get it all out of the way, no more boring stuff. Forgive me if the time frame seems a little off but I need them to arrive in Paris on...you guessed it, Christmas! If there are any other flaws, let me know and I'll do my best to fix them. I am pretty sure that the geography of France is accurate because I'm working straight out of a new atlas. You'll need a relief (mountain range-like) and political map as some of the things I've said my not make sense other wise if you try to follow their route. After this, it should be all action-y. I've got bits and pieces of chapters written, what's left is filling in the huge gaps with action and plot! ::smile:: Review, please, I accept anon's and it's just so I know people actually read this story. 'Cause I got reviews in the beginning, but now...I get none. ::cries:: So review...please...? C'mon. You know you want to. Besides, no reviews, no more story.


	5. Headed In The Wrong Direction

AN: Heya! Finally started typing chapter five! Sorry about the delay! And I'm hoping to have the story completed soon, so it'll be done by ::drumroll:: CHRISTMAS!!! Yay! Ok, so here we go.

---

"Webb!" Harm suddenly said, turning to look at Mac.

"What about him?" she asked, with a rather cold tone.

"He's not here!" Mac's eyes looked from side to side before returning to his.

"Uh…yeah?" She was still in the dark.

"If he's not here, that means he's not coming with us. He's gonna stay on the train and be caught by terrorists!" Mac's eyes widened and lost their icy edge. She may dislike the guy but she wasn't so cold-hearted as to wish him captured! (Although I may be…::grin:: ) Harm was turning around, going back: Mac looked down and saw their hands still together. She held his tightly and pulled him back, her brows furrowing slightly.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going back to get him. We can't just leave him here!"

"Harm, there's no time! We have to jump! Now!" The NAVY pilot looked back at the door they'd come through, the rushing snow outside through the door in the other direction, and finally at Mac. Her brown eyes reflected what he was feeling; regret that they were leaving a man behind, but anxiousness to get off the train and go home. Closing his eyes, he squeezed her hand slightly and turned back to the open door.

"Let's go." Mac smiled, if you could call it that, and stepped to the edge, teetering at the end of the train.

"Ok. One…two…three!" Their legs bent at the knee and pushed them up, feet losing contact with the train. For a pleasant moment, they were flying, and hung in midair without worry. But in the next second gravity grabbed hold of them and roughly pulled them down onto the cold hard earth, with steel railroad tracks as pillows to land on. Needless to say, it was a painful landing. Groaning, they both got up quickly, winded and bruised but otherwise unhurt. Within the next minute they had retreated to the cover of dense snowy woods surrounding the tracks that cut a path through the mountains. They crawled into a dry bit of brush and hid, listening for any sound that they'd been seen. The rickety chug of the train was fading fast, as was the helicopter assumed over it. Soon silence blanketed the forest, and Harm finally broke the quiet.

"I think we're alone." Mac nodded, still grimacing and nursing the bruises starting to appear and pain her. "Where are we?"

"How the hell should I know?" She said through gritted teeth. Harm looked at her reproachfully, then groaned when he tried to reach for the bag which had been foolishly and haphazardly thrown a few feet away. Cracking an eye, as both of them had been squeezed tightly shut, she smirked. "Yeah." They lay for a few minutes more in silence, holding whichever body part hurt most. Feeling slightly better, Mac pulled out the now crumpled map from her jacket pocket, unfolding it as quietly as possible despite their alleged isolation and seclusion. She held up the white paper and looked around., then closed her eyes, lightly this time, before folding up the paper. Harm turned his head towards her as he lay on his back, making sure that all his limbs and appendages were in proper working order. She rolled off her side onto her hands and knees, Harm following suit, albeit slowly.

"You got a fix on our coordinates? Where's the crossroad?"

"S'over there," she waved a hand in the general direction to their left, "about ten minutes or so, I think. We're supposed to follow it out of the mountains, but we're on our own until we can get to the Rhone River. Hey wait a minute…" As they stood, she opened the map again and smacked it with a small satisfied smile. "I knew it! This path ends about two and a half miles from the Isere River!" Harm raised a brow in question and came to her side.

"That means…?"

"That means we can follow the Isere until it joins the Rhone! And look, Grenoble is right on the river! We'll be able to get a car in about three days! Screw walking for a week." Harm leaned over her shoulder, and despite everything, Mac still found herself noticing his warm tickling breath on her neck that always made her shiver. She willed herself not to shudder in pleasure but couldn't keep her hands from shaking a bit. She prayed in vain he wouldn't notice because Harm's sharp blue eyes noted the involuntary movement. His brows furrowed in concern.

"You ok, Mac?" He looked at her carefully, but she would not meet his eye, just refolded the map and returned it to the pocket of her khaki jacket.

"Yeah! Yeah, I'm fine. Let's get going, I want to be well on our way before nightfall." Harm nodded agreement and picked up the pack, shouldering it and starting to trudge through the wooded mountains.

About thirty minutes later, they finally found the road. Apparently, they'd jumped too early, but only by a few minutes in the time and speed the train had been traveling.

"We could've gone back, Mac," Harm said in a low voice. "We still had time."

"I'm sorry! For once can't I make a mistake?"

"I thought you were the perfect clock!"

"Yeah, well thanks to jet-lag, time differences and having to take a slowing down train into account I was off by a few minutes!" The quiet regretful statement that had escaped Harm's lips had turned into a fabulous yelling match as they continued on, without noticing the soldiers up ahead. "Besides, knowing Webb, he probably has a better escape plan for himself other than the one we got." Mac mumbled, mostly to herself, before suddenly stopping and putting a hand over Harm's chest. He started to push past angrily, but he looked up and was met by the business end of a standard issue rifle. The leader of the group yelled indistinct and rapid french, which even Mac had trouble understanding, but Harm got the gist. He tried to speak with a broken german accent, hoping to throw them off.

"Uh…nous sommes hiking, marche. Allons Lyon."(_Uh...we are hiking, camping. Going to Lyon.)_Mac jabbed him the stomach with her elbow roughly and he bent over as the blow had hit a particularly nasty sore spot. The guards took no chances and violently searched them and the duffel, exclaiming at the two handguns on their persons and a semi-automatic –disassembled but still recognizable nevertheless – in the bag. They seemed disappointed to find nothing else, and the leader looked each of them over carefully. Mac went out on a limb and tried for something that'd help them out.

"Monsieur, parlez-vous anglais?" (_Sir, do you speak english?)_

"Yes, mademoiselle, or should I say madame?" Mac struggled to hide a blush and immediately put up her platonic Marine façade that she could disappear behind.

"It doesn't matter. May we pass, please?"

"You are armed heavily for touring German hikers."

"A cousin of mine said it is dangerous here; that the animals sometimes are worth the worry."

"Worry enough for this?" He held up the semi-automatic. They shared the sidelong look and decided that silence was a good answer.

"We can take you to Lyon. That way, you won't be needing it." He snapped his fingers and began arranging a ride for them, confiscating the gun simultaneously.

"NO!" Harm said, putting a hand on the captain's arm. "That's not necessary. We'd much prefer to walk. I'm sure we'll be fine."

"I insist." The Frenchman rested a hand on the butt of the pistol on his hip but kept the fake smile plastered on his face. Harm and Mac shared another look, this one more tired, but unfortunately much more familiar. They got silently into the back of a loud and rumbling truck which Mac thought was running over every pothole and rut it could find on the country road; she said as much. Harm flinched and cringed every time the truck bounced, because the jarring ride wasn't helping his bruises any. Sighing, he held onto the pack tightly, checking and rechecking that all their supplies were intact and secure.

"What are you doin', a pre-flight check over there?" Mac decided to attempt at lightening the mood.

"Hey, I just don't want any surprises, like we run out of food, or don't have enough first aid or something," he snapped, closing the bag with a definitive zip.

"Look, I'm sorry alright? I know we shouldn't've left Webb. But if he didn't have a plan B, then he would've come with us." It hadn't really occurred to Harm that Clayton probably had a backup plan, so this knowledge eased his conscience for the time being. "Now can we please concentrate on the task at hand? Like how the hell we get off this truck with no one noticing?" Mac was irritated that they couldn't avoid going to the one place Webb said not to go.

"I suspect we won't be able to, and personally, I don't want to try after the last bumpy landing."

"So we're just going to sit here and let them drive us into the lion's den? This is suicide!"

"We can make it Mac. We've escaped worse."

"Worse?! I don't think it gets much worse than this." She huffed and crossed her arms, leaning against the cloth that served as a wall in the covered bed of the truck. "I guess we're going to Lyon, then?"

"Guess so."

---

AN: Soo...I decided this route cause otherwise it was just going to be a long boring time of fighting off animals and weathering mother nature while they hiked and fell and then reached Paris. This way it's MUCH more actiony...I think. ::smirk:: I know what's coming next and yooou don't! ::sing-song teasing voice:: He he he he he he! ::ebil smile:: Anyway. REVIEW, dammit! C'mon, you know you want to. ::wink::


	6. This Is NOT Good

AN: Heya, I want some feedback from you guys. ::gasp:: I know, I know, it's so out of character, right? Relax. I was just wondering if I should add a few bits of the rest of the JAG crew. Just a bit, like updates at home and such. I need your votes yes or no. Ok, on with the show.

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The covered truck trundled along, rusty engine rumbling loudly, a few large black clouds of smoke billowing from the exhaust pipe every now and then. The driver was rough, uncaring about the 'cargo' sliding around in the back. He jerked the wheel sharply, executing a quick turn so as not to miss the road he was supposed to take.

Meanwhile, Harm and Mac got tossed around like kernels in a popcorn popper. The both grimaced when their sore bodies slammed against cold and hard metal seats. The military soldier slammed on the brakes abruptly upon their arrival, a loud THUD following soon after, as well as a couple of weary moans. No one looked back at their passengers, but Harm and Mac were tangle together again. Harm's fingers curled tight around the strap of their duffel and Mac checked for the map, but after that, they lay still, breathing softly and recuperating. Mac's head lay nestled at Harm's shoulder, her cold nose pressed against his slightly stubbly cheek. Harm chuckled, and Mac slowly opened her eyes.

"We gotta stop meeting like this," Harm said, a smile lingering on his lips briefly.

"Yeah," was about all Mac could manage at first. She caught herself getting lost in those charming blue eyes of his. She shook her head and nuzzled her nose against his cheek and neck. "Well, you need a shave Sailor." He laughed at that one.

"I bet I do, Marine. I bet I do." He sighed and sat up, grudgingly untangling himself from Mac and helping her stand when the captain –still wearing the mock smile plastered on his face— opened the door.

"We are here, _mon amis._" They clambered out of the truck and it rolled away not a minute later, leaving them in a cloud of dust. He returned their handguns, but not the semi-automatic to them. Mac looked around, still seeing wooded country.

"This is Lyon?"

"Turn around." They did as told and Mac's eyes widened to see the huge city spread before her.

"You two were lucky…but don't think you will be in the future should our paths cross again." They offered nods and waves to the captain and his men before slowly turning their backs to them, knowing they were still being watched.

"What do you think would happen if we took off into the woods right there?"

"I think the most they would find of us would be a finger, collectively."

"Yeah, that's what I thought. Look, we can just go into Lyon, catch a flight to Paris and be home even sooner. Hell, we could go HOME Harm!"

"Weren't we supposed to **avoid** Lyon?"

"Yes, we were. But **YOU**," she emphasized this, "had to go and say Lyon. And there is no point in going into civilization just to walk right back out again and hike through mountains to get somewhere. That's why man made the wheel, and cars, and planes…" Harm sighed as Mac ranted and raved beside him, entering Lyon and soon in the middle of a bustling metropolis. Harm waved over a taxi, paid for the fare to the nearest airport and shoved Mac inside, wordless. She wouldn't stop talking in her normal American voice no matter how much her argued or agreed with her. He closed his eyes, sighing as if he was resigning himself to some horrible fate. Harm finally silenced her with a kiss, in the same fashion as previously done so on the train. It was quick, with barely a glimpse of the real emotion he had deeply hidden.

"Shut up," he hissed, as gently as possible before giving her a stern-ish look but taking her hand in his, more as an apology than as affection, though they did need to keep up the newlywed pretense. They left the cab like that, managing to find a ticket booth without incident. Mac took over, speaking English but now with the phony German accent that the attendant didn't question. Only when they handed over the forged passports did they hit a snag.

"_Un moment, s'il vous plait." (One moment, please.)_ the drably dressed woman said, finding a man who had that 'manager' air about him. They conversed quietly, and Mac sent anfuriousglare at Harm. He suddenly found that his shoes, the airport, the bag and his fingernails were all together safer and more interesting to look at than the fuming Marine next to him. The 'manager' returned, donning the same fake smile as the captain had before he 'let them willingly accept a ride to Lyon'. Harm groaned inwardly as he spoke.

"It seems that there is a slight problem _monsieur (sir)_," Mac turned her angry gaze on him and he addressed her as well, "_et vous, madame." (and you, ma'am.)_

"Is there something else, sir?" He had been keeping an altogether calm demeanor, the smile never faltering, but his nervously wringing hands were easy for the two JAG's to spot.

"Yes, there is unfortunately." The man seemed very jump all of the sudden, and his bulgy eyes began to dart around. Mac looked to Harm and he took over; the better of the two at calming people down.

"Well, I'm sure this can be handled quickly, we'd like to be on the five o'clock flight."

"I'm afraid you will probably miss that plane." Harm's brows furrowed, but the ever optimistic sailor was not so easily discouraged.

"Hm, that's too bad. Well, shall we get this matter settled, then?"

"I suppose we should, yes, quickly now." He muttered to himself and to a quick messenger who appeared and barely stayed more than two minutes in relaying one message and waiting for the next.

"Uh…_monsieur (sir)?_" Mac inquired. He looked up, seeming a bit startled frankly.

"_Oui, madame (yes, ma'am)_, what is it?"

"Can we get on with this?" Their german accents were slowly fading, as was the manager's composed façade. It was quickly deteriorating.

"Oh, yes. Ahem, please, follow me." He then began traversing the entire airport it seemed, a time consuming and mildly tiring task. The man was downright stressed out now; fearing any sound louder than a regular voice or sudden movements toward him. Harm muttered to make as they strolled behind the man.

"This guy is really worried about something, Mac. I'm afraid of what that something is."

"Yeah. This is freaking even me out." The man led them through a maze of bustling crowds with luggage trailing behind with all the sound of airplanes taking off and landing regularly. Finally, they reached a door that read "EMPLOYEES ONLY" in French and English. They shared the sideways look before sighing and reluctantly pursuing the nervous Frenchman. He escorted them through silent halls and at last came upon a seemingly simple and unmarked door.

"Go inside and have a seat, please."

"Alright." Harm opened the door to find a blank gray room, with two solitary chairs sitting beneath the center light, all the other lights ringing the room's ceiling.

"Could you tell us what we're doing here?" Mac asked, taking a seat on the cold metal with a slight frown.

"Unfortunately, there's a bit of a … er, how do you say, problem with your passports, I'm afraid." The look between Harm and Mac was shared again. "These names came up in the computer during the processing and now he would like a word with you." With that, the man closed the door with a sharp click. Harm flopped into the chair beside Mac, groaning.

"This is why Webb didn't want us to come to Lyon. Harm, he said this would happen!" He sat up and looked at her pointedly.

"And you're the one that said what's the harm in coming?" He was somewhat annoyed with her.

"Me?" She asked, indignant. "If you hadn't told that captain we were going to Lyon—" she snapped back. This was turning into yet another magnificent yelling match.

"This is not my fault!" he bellowed, and she was about to verbally attack him once more when all the lights in the room except of the singular one dangling above them. That light intensified until they could see nothing outside the pool of light they were bathed in. The door opened and shut, footsteps tapping across the cold tile floor. Both their eyes widened as they heard a gun cock, and the barrel emerged from the shadows to stare them in the face, only half an arm coming into view as well, the rest of their captor invisible.

"Whoever you are, you caught me on a bad day."

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AN: Wee! Having fun yet? Are you dying because of the cliffie? Ha! ::points and laughs:: And I haven't written the next chapter yet! Review a lot and maybe I will. 


	7. Barely Made It

AN: Ok, yall get some fluffish stuff at the end of this chapter! Wee! Warning…somehow a little violence slipped into this chapter. Just a little.

Spoiler and Disclaimer same as in chapter...one? It's back there somewhere. ::shrug:: Why did I even put this in? I'm rambling... here's the chapter.

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"Now are you going to tell me why the two of you have passports linked to two dead people? Or is this going to make my bad day even worse?" Harm and Mac shared their look again, tired, sore and bruised. Obviously someone knew that most of the papers were forged. A dark chuckle broke the silence that filled the room when the hidden man stopped speaking. 

"I see we're doing this the hard way. Perhaps you do not know who you are…inconveniencing." A few steps clicked on the file and the man who spoke so coldly to them came into the singular pool of light in the darkened room. He wore a crisp slate-gray 3 piece suit, a vivid red vest, black tie, and finely pressed white collared shirt accentuating his tall, thin frame.

"We mean to trouble no one, monsieur," Harm began in the fake German accent but the man smirked, holding up a hand for him to stop.

"You cannot expect me to let you use these passports. If you are these people," he held up the small blue notebooks between his fingers before throwing them at their feet, "then you are literally dead men walking."

"There must be a mistake, there could be another couple—" his wry laugh cut her off and he approached, leaning down to Mac's level as she sat in the chair, his face inches from hers. She could see every flaw and imperfection in the middle-aged man's face and immediately disliked his large beaky nose and water gray eyes. He spoke to her as if she were a child in a condescending tone.

"My dear, surely you agree that these matters are best left to the men to discuss." He canted his head to one side and brushed a hand on her leg in his slow raising of two fingers to her jaw. He roughly gripped her chin when she refused to make eye contact and she spit in his face. He winced slightly before a fake smile stretched his lips. This phony friendliness was becoming quite familiar to them, and they knew it would not be the last glimpse of it they saw…at least they hoped not. Meanwhile the man retrieved a silk handkerchief from his jacked pocket and proceeded to mop Mac's saliva off his features. He calmly tucked the cloth back into its home before smartly slapping Mac hard across one cheek, then the other, the sounds of his palm on her skin ringing out like gunshots. Harm toppled the chair in his haste to rise and had a raised fist against him when the lights flicked on and two burly body guards stepped up, glaring menacingly at him. Suppressing a snarl, Harm kneeled in front of an enraged Mac, who spit on the ground before throwing her head back and staring defiantly at him, his smacks leaving their mark as stinging and angry red circles.

"Perhaps I did not make myself clear. I am having a bad day. You are making it worse. I suggest you get on my good side unless you wish to face unpleasant consequences."

"I'll give you unpleasant consequences!" Mac growled before taking a step towards him with rage smoldering in her usually sparkling brown eyes. Harm tackled her just in time for the bullet aimed where her head was to graze her hair before she hit the ground with Harm. One of the stoic guards lowered a smoking gun slowly, still remaining as silent as ever. Harm held Mac in a vice-like grip until she calmed down, then turned his gaze on the composed man who was quietly fixing a cuff link as if nothing more than a pea shooter had gone off.

"Who the hell are you?"

"Oh is that the problem here? You don't know who I am? That question earlier was just meant to intimidate you." He laughed and clapped his hands in amusement. "This is wonderful. So, who sent you? FBI? CIA? Hell the United Nations could've sent you by now…and you don't even know my name." He turned to one of the beefy brutes next to him. "We must remember this later."

"Who the hell are you?" Harm repeated while Mac continued to scowl. If looks could kill…

"Allow me to introduce myself," he swept into a gracious bow.

"About damn time…" Mac muttered, glowering still. Harm only looked at her reproachfully.

"I am Pierre LaBlanc. This is Michel and Jean," He waved an arm over the muscled men who stood, never speaking a word. "If you still do not know me, I am the most dominant man in Lyon and I grow in increasing power that is starting to spread over France. My freedom fighters--"

"Freedom Fighters?!" Mac exclaimed, standing up. Harm scrambled to catch up but Mac had already put a hand to the small of her back and continued to shout. "Is that what you call yourself these days, _terrorist_?" She spat out the last word as if it were dripping with an acidic poison. "You take innocent lives and instill fear in this country so you can be powerful and bend the law to your will." Only Harm saw the barely visible nod come from LeBlanc before Jean and Michel reached for their holstered guns.

"Mac!" Harm yelled before drawing his standard issue and putting five shot's in Michel's chest. Mac mirrored him with a quick draw on Jean, and the two men fell beside LeBlanc as the sound of gunfire echoed away. A bit of blood pooled beneath them and LeBlanc wrinkled his nose, stepping over Michel and away from the mess.

"Was that really necessary? Good help is hard to find these days. I suppose now I'll have to hire replacements…" He spoke as if he lost a butler or something, not his main lifelines, taking everything with a grain of saltand a rather light mood.

"They aren't the only ones who get to die today." Mac raised her gun again, a grim smile curling her lips as a bit of déjà vu passed when she cocked the 9mm Baretta.

"You are absolutely right."

"Huh?" Mac's brows furrowed and she lowered the deadly weapon a fraction for a moment, and that was all the time he needed. LeBlanc escaped in the next second, setting off an alarm in the process. Mac tore after him, shooting at a blur of gray turning the corner but it nicked the wall instead and then he was gone. Harm collected the bag and pulled Mac in the opposite direction LeBlanc had gone. She didn't move for a second.

"God DAMN IT ALL!" She swore before sprinting with Harm. Screams of panic became louder and softer as they turned and ran down passageway after passageway. Soon numerous loud steps behind them told the duo that this escape wouldn't be easy. Finally finding an exit sign at the end of a hallway, they burst through the door to find themselves at the back end of the large parking lot of the airport.

"There!" Harm pointed. "The rental car place. We can get the hell out of here in a car much faster than on foot." They were about halfway there when a loud bang caused them to turn around. About twelve armed men were trooping after them at top speed, the door they'd all exited hanging on only one hinge now. Cursing like the sailor he was, Harm turned and headed for the first vehicle with keys he saw: A camouflage Jeep.

"We don't have time to pay, Harm!"

"I know. Just get in. They'll already be looking for us, so who cares?" She jumped in the back as he hit the gas, gunning the engine. The tires squealed and rubber burned before they began to pull out of the parking lot. Mac ducked and returned fire after a spray of bullets shot through and shattered a window. They finally were back to following country roads highlighted on the map when Mac slumped over in her seat and promptly began taking in long shaky breaths, a precursor to crying. Harm's blue eyes widened and filled with concern before he put a gentle hand on her back.

"What's wrong, Mac? Are you hurt?" She didn't reply, and Harm was too busy driving to see her carefully shift her ankle, which she had landed on funny when jumping hastily into the truck. "C'mon Mac, please, tell me what's the matter." She swallowed down the lump in her throat.

"I just shot two more people Harm." She choked out. (She'd hit the man shooting at their car.)

"They had it coming! It was us or them you had no choice. You know that."

"That means I have the right to kill?" She said, raising her tearful chocolate hues.

"We all have to do things we regret, Mac," he said slowly, "but it's gonna be ok."

"How can it be ok, Harm?" She was positively howling now, borderline hysterical, except the tears ran silently down her cheeks. "I'm a Marine! We're trained to handle anything. And I've left a man behind! What kind of Marine does that?" She lowered her head again, a sob racking her body every once in a while. She murmured to herself as guilty tears continued to spill.

"What man?"

"Webb!" She nearly screamed. "You were nagging me about it from the moment we left the train. And the more you talked the more I thought. How could I have just left him like that? Just because he was a jerk doesn't mean he deserved to die!" It seemed that she no longer believed in her own story of the agent's backup plan and she was also assuming the worst.

"It will be ok, Mac. I promise." She sniffed half-heartedly and looked at his strong profile as his eyes stayed on the road, his hand on her shoulder the only comfort he could offer at the moment. "Besides, it can't get any worse, right?" He glanced at Mac, giving her a flash of the Flyboy grin and she slowly curled her rosebud lips into the tiniest of smiles when the engine began to sputter.

"What was that?" Harm frantically looked at the instrument panel, then let a few more…er, colorful, shall we say, words slip. "Harm?"

"We're out of gas," and sure enough the car was rolling rapidly to a stop.

"What!" It was more of an exclamation than a question and he nodded slowly. Sunset hit and the sun dipped below the treeline when they abandoned the vehicle, trudging along on booted feet through the country once more.

"Explain to me why we left the safety of the car for sleeping tonight," Mac said as she climbed around a boulder jutting from the hillside, a bit of powder landing on Harm in the process.

"Because," he sighed, "they will be looking for the car and probably just fill it with holes or even blow it up before getting near it. Do you see somewhere we can sleep?"

"Yeah," Mac panted, her breaths coming faster after the rough hiking. "There's a cave up there."

Harm starts a small fire in the cave, lighting up the dim place. Mac tries to walk around, cleaning a space, but a limp is detectable, and she stumbles. Harm says nothing for the moment, but is watching over her with a careful eye. She finishes her task on her knees, scuffing and dirtying up the brown jeans. She lies on the semi-soft bed of moss and brush, using the duffel as a pillow. Harm crouches between her and the fire, looking at her silently for a moment as Mac lays quietly, eyes closed. Her brow is beaded lightly with sweat, and a scrape across her cheek is evident in the flickering firelight. Harm cools a rag in the snow outside before returning to her and wiping her forehead softly. Her eyes open quickly and she starts to sit up.

"No, no, it's ok. Stay still."

"I'm fine, really. I just could use a little food and water." He ignored her protest and pushed her down onto the makeshift bed.

"You know, you Marines continue to amaze me. I watched you fall, but without a sound. Barely even a grimace of pain." He looked up from wiping the scrape on her face and reached down, flicking her ankle. Caught unawares, she cried out.

"Ahh!" Gritting her teeth, she squeezed her eyes tight shut and fell back onto the 'pillow' from being propped up on her elbows. Cracking one eye, she glared at him for just a moment.

"I knew it. Let's see what you did."

"What I did? As if I like having to be taken care of while we're stranded out here!" Harm wasn't listening, nor did he respond. Without another word he pulled Mac into his lap and rolled up her jeans. The tight fitting pants had to be moved in a sliding motion and the tips of his fingers were moving slowly up her inner thigh, stopping about an inch away from…oh you get the idea. He moved his hands slowly back down her bared leg, checking for any other injuries. The only reaction he got was a sharp intake of breath, which he grinned at. He untied the laces of her sturdy hiking boot and slid the shoe off, tugging gently at the sock before it too released its hold on Mac's leg.

"Here, put your arms around my neck." She did as she was told, not questioning him, for once. He leaned sideways, Mac's face an inch from his as he reached for the pack and mini first-aid kit inside. He hesitated, looking down at her inviting, tempting lips. Mac's eyes rose and met his. Cerulean hues gazed deeply into chocolate brown ones looking right back. Harm sat up slowly, bag in hand. He cleared his throat before speaking again.

"Ok, good news is, you don't have a fever and you've only sprained your ankle. Bad news is you'll be slower than usual."

"Excuse me, usual?" She raised her eyebrows and looked him in the eye.

"Ah…why don't I wrap this up for you?" Taking an ACE bandage, he slowly wound it around her foot, then ankle, then leg to mid-calf. His large hands were unusually nimble and Mac saw the concentration it took to be extra gentle. Her big brown eyes glowed with love and the blood rushed to her cheeks for a moment. As he wrapped her ankle, she had a another slight case of déjà vu (again, I know. I wrote this part before the other…if it bothers you, too bad. Deal with it). Harm had been taking care of an injury when the crashed his biplane in the woods. Granted it was 6 years ago, and a bullet in her thigh not a sprained ankle, but still it was similar. It was his fault then too, she remembered -or at least she decided to blame him. But he also had comforted her, and carried her most of the way, promising to get her out of it and coming through.

"There," he said. "You should be alright, but let's not strain it any more than we have to, ok?" She nodded in reply. He picked her up and placed her on the 'bed' before going outside to gather a little snow. Half he put into a small tin cup, the other he stuffed into a plastic bag and tied up. Melting the snow over the fire created a little water, and the bag was a provisional ice pack which he set on her ankle. Putting the fire out, he handed Mac the cup, their only light now the waning crescent moon and stars. Soon, they lay a couple feet apart, trying to catch a few hours sleep. Finally, Harm turned over.

"Mac, c'mere."

"Wha? Why? I'm fine."

"No, you're not. I can hear your teeth chattering over here." He opened his coat. "Do I need to get you a written invitation? C'mere!" She smiled and scooted over, nestling into him, winding her arms around him and putting a leg between his.

"Brr…god, could it get any colder? Jeez. Thanks Harm, y'know this is better…" she trailed off into silence, recalling the last time they'd shared body heat. She smiled to herself at the memory. Webb had been a small part of that too. Harm sighed and closed his eyes, resting his cheek on the top of her head. An ear pressed to his chest, Mac sighed too and closed her eyes as well, the faint and familiar ba-bum, ba-bum of his beating heart lulling her to sleep with Harm's strong arms pulling her body close to his.

* * *

AN: Should they have kissed? I wasn't sure…Ok, I still don't know if you want me to write about the JAG family at home because 1) there weren't that many reviews, and 2) of the people that DID review, only like…one person voted. I'm getting really discouraged. Anyway, send me your vote via review! Unfortunately, I've missed my deadline of Christmas Day for the end of this story, sorry yall. 


	8. Uninvited Guests

AN: Ok, this chapter turned out really short compared to the others –I think…- but I wanted a cliffe. ::grin:: Tomorrow you get the next two and probably last chapters of the fic! Unless yall want a conclusion/sequelish thing…::shakes head:: I dunno. Yall get two chappies tomorry let's leave it at that. Alright, on with this show so we can get to the cliffhanger!! ::ebil grin::

* * *

Daybreak  
Somewhere in France's Massif Central

Slowly Mac became aware of a muffled rhythm that echoed in her fuzzy mind as dreams dimmed and gave way to a fairly harsh reality. Almost awake she felt a sense of security from the strong arms that circled her and she snuggled deeper into the warmth, drifting back into a light doze. Her movements had woken Harm out of his light sleep and his eyes opened slowly, a yawn stretching his mouth. When he saw the sleeping beauty in his arms he smiled and took care not to jostle her out of her slumber. He noted that more snow had fallen overnight and that the temperature was not warming as much as yesterday.

_/Crap, /_ he thought. _/We're sore tired and hungry. Mac's twisted her ankle, the terrorists are probably going to be searching for us soon and we haven't seen a glimpse of that river Webb was talking about. /_ As Harm continued to mull over their rather dire situation, Mac felt herself being roused by her mind to consciousness. She sent a quick prayer to a higher being that everything she'd just been through could be one very long, vividly detailed dream, but alas, she woke with stiff limbs in Harm's tight embrace. A weary sigh passed her lips after brown eyes took in the unfamiliar surroundings. Harm released her from his close hug and Mac sat up after Harm stood to stretch his aching arms and legs. His back prickled with pain and he concentrated on it for a few moments. That, mixed with his low grunts of pain kept him from realizing that Mac was crying again. She stared off into space, her cheeks wet with tears, speaking before he could ask.

"Marines always know what to do, they don't leave men behind and they sure as hell don't cry." She sniffed and put her head down on folded arms that rested on her knees. Her next words were muffled, but audible. "I've screwed up those three things. How could I do that?" She kept asking that question, and it was obvious that she was really torn up inside, suddenly vulnerable to the sailor. He kneeled next to her.

"You're only human. You're not just a hard-ass Marine but a damn fine woman who only wants a good career, a great man and comfortable shoes. Right?" Mac raised her head to see Harm grinning softly at her and her usually sexy smile was subdued to a modest smile. The Flyboy grin peeked through and he slipped his hands in hers before pulling her up. He used a bit more force than intended and compounded with Mac's weak ankle she almost fell, but dependable Harm caught her in his strong arms and held her close. For a moment Mac felt incredibly safe, and in the next her cheeks flushed slightly before she stepped away.

"Thanks." She wobbled and he put a hand on her elbow to steady her.

"No problem. Besides, it's my fault you're in this mess anyway." She dropped her arm slowly and watched him erase the signs of their stay before picking up the duffel. "Let's find that river. I'm guessing we'll get a little head start considering we're up with the sun, but I don't want to delay." Mac nodded and hobbled behind Harm as they made slow progress through the fresh snow, which melted slightly under the sun's rays. She pulled out the wrinkled map, smoothing out a dog-eared corner before scanning the unfurled page quickly.

"Harm?"

"Yeah?" He called back.

"We should hit the Loire soon. We've crossed over the small mountains here and it's in the valley below."

"I see it! It's down there. We should reach that within a couple hours." The trek was long and strenuous, with a break for a brunch-like meal of water, fruit and rapidly staling (stale-ing…dunno if that's right) bread. In reality the hike ended up on the latter side of three and a half hours, by then both of them tired with complaining body parts. The town they entered was called Roanne, and they changed clothes in a restroom before venturing to the riverside in search of transportation.

"Alright, so we've reached the river. How the hell do we travel it?"

"By boat, of course."

"Well I mean how by boat. If we flash too much cash it's bound to attract attention." They meandered along the boardwalk through a middling to large crowd.

"I think we can pass as tourists," Harm said, circling an arm around Mac's waist after she caught a few men's eyes. She leaned on him, partly to alleviate her ankle pain, and partly because he just felt so good to be near. "Won't the river be frozen, though? It's probably below freezing at night."

"Well during the day the sun warms it, and with heavy traffic and swift currents it's probably cold as hell, but not solid."

"Hm. Do you wanna go ahead and find a boat now?" He asked.

"Yes, please. The sooner we get to a real bed to sleep on the better. Besides, it's probably best to keep moving." Harm nodded agreement and they went to the docks soon after. It just so happened that a few large tour boats were running up the river. They secured two tickets and a cabin, and then headed onboard to pass out on the queen mattress in their small room. They woke to the sound of a steadily chugging engine.

"Do you wanna go on deck?" Mac asked sleepily, yawning softly after.

"Sure. A walk'll probably help our muscles. Don't hurt your ankle, though."

"Ok, let's take the bag with us; we can't take any chances." They left the room and headed to the back of the boat. Both sunk gratefully into a chair, looking at the beautiful scenery. Harm checked their supplies and decided to take inventory. His gloved fingers found the cash they'd been given, a lot of which had just been spent on the boat trip. Harm counted the money and seemed displeased with his total.

"We're running out of money."

"What?"

"We've spent almost all of it. We'll need more soon."

"Weren't we supposed to get help? I mean wasn't that the whole point of this?" She showed a corner of the now well used and worn map that constantly rode in her jacket pocket.

"Yes, the highlighted routes were to show helpers."

"Then why are we out of money?"

"Because we haven't had time to go to any of the safe houses since we jumped off that damn train, that's why," Harm growled, extracting two apples from the bag, munching on one and tossing her the other. He decided not to mention that their food supply was running low too as Mac seemed to be in a bad mood. But hey, who could blame her? She was stuck running for her life in a foreign country with a man who could both piss her off to no end and melt her heart like butter with romantic actions. Sighing, Mac rose from her seat and stood at the back balcony. If she closed her eyes it was a bit like being on Vulture's Row of a carrier. Harm joined her shortly, hanging his head.

"I'm sorry I snapped at you."

"I'm sorry for making you. We're even." Their special look was shared, but now it held love in it too, for both parties. The moment of joy was short-lived, however. Harm's brows furrowed as Mac gazed at his face.

"Crap," He said, staring past her.

"What?" She asked. He pointed at a speck on the river.

"We've got company." It was Pierre LeBlanc, with reinforcements. Unfortunately for them, he didn't seem happy in the least.

* * *

AN: Ok, it might've gotten a little boring in this chapter, but it was unavoidable. I don't like this chapter or the next one very much so the creativity might suffer slightly. Eh, I can't wait until we get to the shipperness of chapter 10! Woo! Leave a review if you want some FLUFF! 


	9. Almost There

AN: Short note for now - hot off the press, so forgive me for mistakes. I don't have a beta reader...but now, drumroll please (drumroll) enjoy the show!

* * *

Harm grimaced and turned away, grumbling and swinging around the pack, rummaging for something. Mac was still looking rather stupidly out to 'sea'. Harm, looking back, slipped his arm about her waist and lifted her bodily, ignoring first her surprised gasp and then shouts of protest. When they'd gone to a lesser used walkway and were out of LeBlanc's view he set her down, but not before apologizing for the abrupt...er, ride. Taking a deep breath, she decided against a death glare; it wouldn't do them any good. 

"So what are we gonna do? You dragged me over here, great. What's next?"

"There are too many civilians aboard. If we set of an alarm and they panic, someone could get hurt."

"We can't do anything about that Harm!"

"Yes, we can. C'mon, help me untie this." He rushed to the side of the boat and began tugging at expertly tied knots.

"A LIFEBOAT?" Harm was trying to untie one of the emergency rafts lashed to the side.

"Yes, Mac. We can take this and keep the terrorists away from the innocents."

"How the hell are we supposed to get from here to Orleans on this river if we take this dinghy?" She voiced her skeptical opinion, but still helped him start to pull off the tarp covering the tiny boat.

"Uh..."

"Yeah, that's what I thought. Even with this small engine we'll never catch this tour boat." Harm spied a large bit of coiled rope and dragged it over.

"Ok, look. We'll tie ourselves to the back, take care of the terrorists and climb back aboard. If we avoid using guns, I think we can get out of this with no one noticing."

"In broad daylight with some 150 odd tourists plus the crew? Of course," she said while still helping him loop the rope securely around their motorboat. "Not to mention anyone on the banks..." She mumbled on about how crazy his plan was and things like: "Stupid," "Holy hell," "Why did this have to happen to me?" and "I shouldn't have to put up with this crazy crap!" before carefully climbing in and letting Harm put the boat in the water. After double checking their long 'lifeline', he clambered down a rickety rope ladder and joined her. She smacked him in the face with a life jacket and he raised an eyebrow at her, who'd already donned one.

"What? I'm not taking any chances that this stupid plan won't work and we end up in the water." A grim countenance told him she was dead serious and he silently pulled on the neon orange vest without further argument.

* * *

1207 Local  
JAG Headquarters  
Falls Church, Virginia 

He looked at his bustling workplace, but saw a pause in activity. Seeing all eyes were turned upwards, he turned to watch the TV screen as an anchor on one of the many screens gave the report.

"A train was found de-railed and in pieces in the French Alps today. No survivors were found. There is evidence to support terrorist involvement in this incident. Unfortunately, there is no other information being released at this time." After that the woman switched to the next topic, but everyone in the bullpen was buzzing.

"Who could it be?"  
"It must be terrorists if they won't say anything else."  
"Only the CIA can keep information like that under wraps, they have to be in on it."

The scuttlebutt flew faster than the speed of light around the office, Harriet of course being the first source of it all. Meanwhile, the Admiral, deep in thought, returned to his office. It was about time for a progress report, so the head of JAG sat down in his big leather chair and picked up the phone, intent on using all the power he had (and any means necessary) toreceive the current whereabouts of his two senior officers from SOMEONE at the CIA headquarters.

"Hello? Yes, this is Admiral AJ Chegwidden. I'd like to speak to the director, Kershaw..."

* * *

1716 Local (France local time)  
On the Loire River  
France 

"I think they're coming towards us, sir." A dry chuckle came from the thin lips of a man clad in a crisp and tailored suit. He ran a hand over his lapels, then his finely gelled hair; not a strand out of place.

"I don't know who these people are: they're most certainly not CIA, too messy. Yet they have evaded my capture, I must give them some credit for that."

"They don't deserve credit. They killed my friends..." A fist the size of a small ham clenched tightly, the burly man it belonged to nearly shaking with rage. Pierre laid a hand on the stocky bodyguard's arm, patting lightly.

"Relax my friend. They will pay with their lives the inconvenieneces of the past few days."

"Only an inconvenience! They killed half the men in your complex, your own personal protectors, and they probably have enough information to ruin a decade's work (totally inaccurate, but still, it's what the man thought) but they're only an _inconvenience_ to YOU?" The man was losing it, and LeBlanc shook his gray head sadly, raising his old school Colt .45 to his temple. Point blank, one shot. He shoved the 300 pounds of muscle overboard and dabbed at the flecks of blood on his suit with a crimson handkerchief.

"Anyone else want to complain?" All 11 men on the motorboat were silent and staring straight ahead; not even daring to meet their boss's steely gaze. "That's what I thought. Now get your stupid asses in gear: we'll be meeting them in less than three minutes. You can slow down now since they're coming to us." The aged silver hues looked upon his newest enemy with a hatred not seen by his crew.

Meanwhile Mac saw the death of the brute and the only emotion she expressed was a rage to rival LeBlanc's at the senseless killing. Harm wouldn't even look up from his work which consisted of lashing down already secure supplies and readying their guns (despite his previous statement about disposing of the men without them. So much for THAT plan). Mac sighed, cocking the standard issue in her hand.

_/This gun has seen so much more action than it should. Bullets have shot and killed so many people. But.../_ she wiped the butt of the gun with a rag before tossing it aside and standing up, the deadly weapon hanging in one hand. _/I think I can live with just one more death on my hands./_ Harm's voice shattered her thoughts -and her resolve- momentarily.

"There are twelve of them, two of us. The odds..."

"Are against us, 6 to 1, I know."

"Alright, Mac. Do you want to board the ship?"

"No, I don't really feel like waiting that long, and frankly, I don't want to see that scum's face up close again." With that she raised her firearm and aimed with superb marksmanship. 3 down, 9 to go.

They'd caught on now, and most had hit the deck after she'd fired her first shot, scrambling for their own weapons. Harm remained at the back of the ship, steering their light craft. Mac crouched down below thestrategically stacked supplies, firing another shot at the hull of the larger boat. The closest crew member under Pierre's command had dived for the controls and began diversionary tactics, gunning the larger engine and steering towards our favorite couple.

"Don't run into them you fool! You'll sink us with them!" LeBlanc swatted at the idiot and took control himself, following Harm as he put the emergency craft through moves it had never been intended for or designed to do. Now the terrorist's crewwas back on their feet, armed to the teeth with handguns to AK-47's. A smattering of bullets peppered the water to their left when Harm swerved, and Mac returned fire after the near miss, wishing for their confiscated semi-automatic.

"Harm, they're closing in!" Mac yelled after crawling to the end of the boat herself. Harm was slouched next to the engine he controlled, using a hand mirror as his only guide of their pursuer's location.

"I know," he muttered through clenched teeth, wincing as they rolled off a wave in the other boat's wake and landed hard. (Harm had executed a sharp 270 degree turn and fell in behind LeBlanc.) This time it was Harm's Baretta that rang out, her sharp retorts sounding the death of two more crew members. "Get back to the front while we're behind them." Nodding, Mac wriggled back into position on her belly, keeping her head down as the air above her was sprayed with bullets.

Pierre shouted orders at his remaining henchmen, all six no, wait, make that five of them. The man expressed his rage at being outdone by two tourists by reversing the roles once more and putting them in the role of the pursued again. Harm and Mac switched places, her hand guiding them roughly over the water. Harm steadied his hand and shot another two of Pierre's men, not even watching them fall overboard with large splashes before focusing his attention on their stubborn foes. Harm's blue hues glanced at the disturbed waters to see the rope keeping them near their tour. Mac made a sharp turn towards the other boat, hoping to run them into a stray log when he saw they would tangle in their 'lifeline'.

"Mac, don't!" He stood to lunge for control, pull them away from the danger, but two noises sounded off simultaneously. One was the sound of an already weary engine sputtering and choking out. The other was the sharp crack of a rifle. Harm was taken by surprise with the hit and fell forward, the impact to the cold floor of the dinghy knocking him out.

"Harm, NO!" Mac screamed, leaving the engine and turning him over, blood already soaking through his shirt. Biting back tears she hastily ripped his jacket to reveal the bullet wound. With a stoic face she tied a piece of cloth as tightly as she could around his bicep, whispering an apology for the pain to him at the same time. She reloaded both their guns and took one in each hand, preparing to take the rest of those bastards out.

Pierre saw the dark-haired gentleman go down and smirked, already thinking himself victorious. Then he made the mistake of pulling up next to the tangled raft. The emotional Marine rose up from the battered emergency craft like something out of a dream - or in this case, a nightmare for the last three bullies whose lives were snuffed out. She'd emptied both chambers of the guns into the bodyguards, but LeBlanc was still there.

She leaped aboard, facing her adversary, seething with fury. He grinned at her, and then she lost it, charging so quickly he hadn't the time to draw his gun against her before he was sacked like a quarterback. Mac was punching and kicking before they'd even rolled over, and LeBlanc found his gun ripped away and an angry Marine kicking his ass. The older man finally scored a low blow, kicking her in the stomach and throwing her off of him into a wall of the ship hard. Mac scrambled to her knees, but not fast enough as she heard the Colt .45 cock slowly. She was breathing heavily, her clothes were torn and dirty, the lifejacket beaten up beyond repair. Her brown hair covered her eyes as she slowly raised her hands, her head still hung low. When she raised her eyes LeBlanc almost took a step back, so repelled by the fire in her eyes. He still took the time to fix his suit and check his hair before addressing her.

"You put up a good fight, _madame_. I wish there had been more time for me to teach you a lesson and put your in your place," he paused to give Mac the look of contempt she loathed, "but as it were, I'll still enjoy your death, _mon cherie._" He raised the sidearm and Mac closed her eyes, praying that Harm would somehow get away. She waited for the shot...but it never fired.

Chocolate hues fluttered open to see Pierre LeBlanc lying on the floor, a pool of blood forming, and Harm standing over him, a knife in hand. He looked up with those sweet blue eyes of his and managed a little smile, the injured arm holding the knife and the non-injured arm holding the one that blood continued to seep from.

"_Je suis desole, monsieur, mais elle va avec moi._" (I'm sorry, sir, but she is going with me.) His vision doubled momentarily and he staggered left, Mac rushing to his side and supporting him before his legs gave out and he collapsed.

"Oh Harm..." she began as they climbed down off the boat and fell into the water awkwardly.

"Shh, Mac, don't even start. I just want to go to sleep right now..." Her eyes widened in concern.

"No, don't sleep, you might have a concussion." She patted his cheek gently when his eyes began to droop. "Stay with me, Sailor." He still was slipping away. On an impulse, she kissed him fiercely, biting his bottom lip passionately. His crystal orbs had been sliding closed, but now they snapped open as the two of them bobbed in the icy Loire River, dusk settling over them.

"Mmpth! Mac, I'm awake! I promise!"

"Okay. Let's get back to the ship then." She turned away quickly, pulling herself hand over hand towards the still moving boat by the rope. Harm smiled, his lips still tingling from her kiss. He severed the 'lifeline' after following behind her a minute, letting the wrecked lifeboat float behind them.

They found a crowd awaiting them when they hauled themselves aboard, sopping wet and exhausted. The tourists thought it was a show, and after recieving towels to wrap in they retreated to their room as fast as they could, promptly falling asleep. Another similar looking couple was happy to take the credit and recounted the dogfight over and over again to the expectant people (though they hadn't even witnessed the shootout firsthand), so Harm and Mac were off the hook.

The next few days were spent finishing their boat trip and getting a bus ride to Paris. (No more trains for them!) They arrived mid-day on the 23rd, and spent a good hour trying to find the specified location on the now blurry, water-marked, battle-worn and heavily-depended upon map that had stayed in Mac's breast pocket the entire trip. They had no new change of clothes, and all their money was gone; the last of it handed over to the taxi driver who dropped them off at what was hopefully their hotel. Stepping inside, they recieved odd looks from the rather prim crowd; Harm's jacket sleeve was torn and stained with blood and his face was in desperate need of a shave. Mac was hardly better; limping in with her jeans sweat-stained and her hair unbrushed for days. Just when they were about to sigh and admit defeat, a familiar voice came from behind them.

"Oh, finally! What took you so long? I've been here for a week."

* * *

AN: TADAA! FINALLY IT IS DONE! This SOB is what kept me from posting for three months. I'm sooooo sorry for the delay, but now it's only a FLUFF chapter left! So it shall finally be complete in a couple days. Promise. So, now is the time that you can yell at me, but only in reviews! Please:D 


	10. Christmas In Paris

AN: Woo, it is all finished now. And seven months to the day I first posted to boot! I'm so happy! (tear) This is my first completed story! No applause, please. :D Now I'm not quite sure about helicopters or temperatures in France, so bear with me and allow some leeway, okay? Let's see; I don't know if Renee and Harm were still dating during this time, but for one parts sake, let it be. One more thing; I think I might've said the 23rd, instead of the 24th in the last chapter as their arriving day. For the fluff of this chapter's sake, let me fix that typo now and say that 'today' is Christmas Eve. Alright, on with the end of the show. :D

* * *

Harm whipped around in a second at the familiar voice. Mac could only freeze in place, staving off relieved tears. Harm was the first of them to regain the power of speech.

"Webb! How the? What the? You're alive!" The agent calmly rearranged his tie and ran a hand over his gelled hair, allowing a small smirk to curl his lips.

"Yes, yes I am." Mac spun slowly and resisted the urge to hug him when his nose wrinkled at their haggard appearance. On second thought, she was glad she didn't embrace the rat.

"Wait just one damn minute. You've been here HOW long?" Harm put his good arm around her waist, hugging her close, seemingly in anaffectionate way, but was also pinning her against his body to prevent bodily harm from coming to the CIA man if this Marine didn't like his answer.

"Oh, a few days. I was about to send a search party, actually. But let's not talk about this out in the open, shall we Mr. and Mrs. Longfellow?" Plastering a sickeningly sweet fake smile on his face, he escorted them to their suite before debriefing them on what had happened after they jumped ship.

It seemed that there was indeed a leak in Webb's team and that he had turned the rest of the numerous double agents aboard to his side. The few people he trusted went with him to the mysterious fourth car, where he had stockpiled radio equipment, emergency supplies and of course enough weaponry to support a small country, like a good spook should. Using the electronics it was discovered that the helicopter was an ally and escape route. Of course he couldn't leave any kind of trail, so Webb shot out the engine and was safely away when the oil ignited and the coals blew out. The specialty helicopter was able to fly them straight to Paris where he had been patiently waiting, lounging about and dining on caviar while they were trying to keep from freezing their sixes off in below freezing temperatures.

Harm began relaying the first half of their adventure while Mac cleaned up, unable to stand being 'disgusting and covered in filth' any longer. ("And here I thought Marines liked being dirty, Mac!" Harm teased as she glared and stalked off.) He carefully danced around their intimate moments (especially sharing body heat - and the odd kiss here or there!) and was just listening to Webb scream his lungs out about them going to Lyon.

"You WHAT! Do you two have a death wish? I mean the ONE place I told you NOT to go and where do you end up? I am surprised you made it out alive!" A disbelieving chuckle escaped him as he sank back into the cushy armchair across from Harm. Mac returned then, fully dressed (much to Harm's disappointment). Pulling himself up, Mac helped him to the bathroom before returning to the seat opposite Clay.

"So where are we?" She settled in and crossed her legs, ready to say her piece and be done with it.

"You're getting thrown around like rag dolls and headed to the lion's den!" Huffing, the man crossed his arms, not caring about the creases he was creating in that three piece suit.

"Oh yes, Commander Big Mouth is to blame for that one. We got in and out and were back in the mountains for a day or so. I was so excited when we got on the boat, but it seems Pierre doesn't give up easily."

"He was on your tail the whole time? Why didn't you call for help?" She sat up a little straighter and stared into his emotionless face, beginning to regret ever caring that this jerk might have died.

"We were TRYING to move as fast as we could and just make it there in one piece!" Sighing, she regained her composure and found her sarcasm again, accompanied by a smirk. "So even though you and your pathetic mission went bust, we managed to kill LeBlanc and quite a few of his men." Webb turned his head, shocked.

"You KILLED HIM?"

"Isn't that what I said?" Blinking innocently she clasped her hands together and propped them on her knee, looking quite prim as the agent babbled incoherently. Fortunately, before he could interrogate her further, Harm stumbled in, holding his arm.

"Hey, Spook. You got a doctor on call who can look at this?" He was attended to and the agent left them after given them the details for the next couple days.

"We can't get a flight back until 3 AM. I thought you'd both be okay with that seeing as it's first class. It'll just be a simple 7 hour flight. You'll be home in time to enjoy Christmas Day. You are free to do as you please until then." Both of them sighed with relief as he closed the door on his way out.

"Finally!" A small chuckle escaped Harm as he fell back onto the plush king-sized bed. Mac smiled, peeling off the extra clothes she'd put on in Webb's presence, revealing plaid pajama pants and a white tank. Smiling, she crawled under the comforter and promptly fell asleep. Dozing off himself for a short nap himself, he yawned, kicking off his shoes and slipping under the covers. Snuggling against Mac's back, Harm slipped an arm about her waist and smiled before the Sandman did his work on the exhausted couple.

* * *

Meanwhile, Webb had contacted his boss back at CIA Headquarters, and got his butt reamed for not knowing where the two had been for the past few days. Holding the phone away from his ear, he explained what had happened in a yell and finally got his CO to calm down. Kershaw had a right to be pissed though; AJ had gone above him, almost all the way to the president! The SECNAV was good enough to get the head CIA man to contact Clay everyday until they were found. Rubbing his temples,Kershaw hung up on France and dialed JAG, intent on getting one furious Admiral off his six ASAP!

* * *

A few hours later they woke up, the city lights streaming in through their window indicating that they'd most definitely slept the rest of the day away. Somehow (neither party was quite sure how), a tickle/pillow fight emerged, that wrecked about half the suite in its course. Finally Harm conceded to a tactical ambush and hugged an elated Marine. Famished, Mac dragged Harm moaning and groaning out to eat. ("Aw, Mac! But what if I'm not hungry?" One look from those brown eyes caved him "Okay, okay, we'll go, Marine.") They enjoyed a quaint meal at a small cafe, quite a romantic setting, actually. Uncharacteristic giggling and close almost-snuggling was a wonderful change from the hellish week they had gone through. After they went through four courses of rich French cuisine AND dessert ("Jesus, Mac!") they finally rolled themselves out of the restaurant.

"Alright, Flyboy. Let's go back to pack." Harm immediately balked, slowing in his walking down the street.

"Aw, but Mac, our flight's in a few hours!"

"Three hours, nine minutes and...10 seconds, to be exact - if all is well and on time." One dark eyebrow arched dubiously.

"Oh, so _now_ your inner clock is perfect."

"Don't worry; I'll be all out of wack and needing recalibration once we're back in the States." Flashing an innocent smile at him, she wrapped her scarlet scarf around her neck once more.

_/The maroon really brings out her beautiful hair.../_ Harm was lost in a dream world when he realized Mac was no longer by his side. She had her back turned to the street, but her feet kept backing up towards the curb.

"C'mon, Harm!" She called to him, but he didn't hear her. Cobalt hues widened when her boot slipped off the step and headlights bounced over her figure.

"Mac!" His hand shot out with lightning fast reflexes that yanked her out of harm's way just as a speeding taxi blew past them in the next instant. Backing up a few paces into a small alcove he pulled her body close under the small arch. Despite all the layers between them his skin still felt like it was on fire when he held her in a protective embrace, his head buried in her shoulder, hers in his.

"Oh my god," was the shaky breath she finally let out. A small chuckle came from him.

"I don't know what I'd do if I lost you to a wayward cabbie after all the crap we went through." Mac pulled away enough to see his smiling face, but the foggy breath coming from his lips mingled with her own; she hadn't realized she'd gripped him so tightly around the neck.

_/He cares so much.../_ She found her eyes sliding half closed before she knew what was happening. The last thing she saw was Harm's face moving closer; then she was lost. Tentatively he brushed his lips against hers, timidly tasting and testing her. She pulled him closer and fused her mouth to his, passion and hunger overtaking them both in a moment. Trying to get as close to each other as possible, Harm even lifted her to tiptoe in his loving hug. Their tongues dueled for control, exploring territory they'd both only fantasized about before. Oxygen was running low in both their bodies, but neither wanted to ever stop kissing the other first; that is until a thought came into Mac's head, and she pulled back from the kiss, taking a step away from the love of her life.

"But you...and Renee..." She seemed hurt, and was withdrawing again.

"Mac, we broke up the night before we left to come here. When I told her I was going on another mission, and that you were going with me, she exploded. She said that if I wasn't ready to marry her and get engaged right then and there that she was going to walk out of my life and never look back. So I opened the door and she left." Harm didn't seem at all perturbed; in fact, a little smirk was tugging at the corners of his mouth. He looked back at her, smiling now. "So there's nothing between us but air." He took both of her hands in his, and she shyly (yes, shyly!) stepped close to him and closed the gap.

"Not anymore," she whispered, her brown eyes dropping from his blue ones to his lips as a white cloud came off her hot breath in the cold air before their lips met again. The need for air was again great, and after he reluctantly released his hold on her lips he spied the mistletoe above them. He pointed at it, smiling at Mac's surprised face.

"We're standing under mistletoe, on Christmas Eve, in one of the most romantic places on the planet." Harm's Flyboy grin was at maximum capacity and couldn't get any bigger. "If I didn't know better I'd say you planned the whole thing." Smiling, he shook his head, a little seriousness coming into his demeanor.

"The setting is perfect, and the time is right, so I'm gonna say it." Harm took a deep breath and said...

"I love you." But he heard Mac's voice at the same time, and when he opened his eyes she was beaming at him. He picked her up, swinging them around as she laughed delightedly.

"Christmas in Paris," she sighed dreamily after their spinning was done.

"Merry Christmas, Sarah." He kissed her again, softly and romantically this time as a light and powdery snow fell on them. Smiling under the pure white shower, Mac leaned into him and rested her head on his chest, arms encircling his neck as his hands rested on the small of her back. Fireworks shot into the air and exploded in a myriad of colors, church bells tolling midnight at the same time. Wrapped in each other's arms, each was happier than they'd ever been before.

For once, everything was right in their world.

The End

* * *

AN: WOOO! FINISHED! I'm a little sad though; I've got the same feeling now that I get when I watch the final episode of JAG for the (cough thirteenth cough :D) time. Happy but depressed too. I've been working on this story for a long time. Oh well though; that just means I can lose myself in another one! Hooray:D Review, please, and tell me how you think the whole story went; suggestions and anything else you noticed would be a great help. Hope you enjoyed the whole ride as much as I did. 


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